


Breathe Me

by Olivia (CarryOnMyWaywardAngel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarryOnMyWaywardAngel/pseuds/Olivia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was sick of clichés, stereotypes, of the same thing happening every single time in every single story I read. So, in a fit of rebellion (so badass, I know) I wrote this. This is where love isn't instantaneous, nor is friendship. It happens slowly, ever so slowly, but it's real. It's real and pure because it happens so slowly. Life doesn't come with any quick fixes, and love is no exception.</p><p>"Time didn't slow down, nor did it stop. Their pulses didn't race, their hearts certainly didn't skip a beat, and their heads didn't swim. There was no click, no "oh" moment, no fireworks, nothing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But A Glance

**Author's Note:**

> This AU fanfiction is very loosely based around/ inspired by the song Breathe Me by Sia.

The first time Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester came across each other was in the south hall of their high school. They passed by each other, Castiel on his way to art, Dean on his way to his engineering class, and their eyes met.

Time didn't slow down, nor did it stop. Their pulses didn't race, their hearts certainly didn't skip a beat, and their heads didn't swim. There was no click, no “oh” moment, no fireworks, nothing. Their eyes met for a maximum of 3 seconds, then moved on as their feet did the same. They didn't know each others names, they weren't even consciously aware that they had taken notice of the other. Another blurring face in the sea of students, that's all they were.


	2. Passerby

The second time they passed each other, was in the foyer of the school. More specifically, the main office. Castiel opened one door, and exited the office, head angled slightly towards the ground, and body tucked in on itself. Dean opened the other door, and entered the office, shoulders back, spine straight, and chin angled slightly upwards. Again, their eyes met, for longer this time, perhaps 5 or 6 seconds, which is a long time for two people simply passing each other on their way to somewhere else. They didn't recognize each other from their first encounter, they still were not acquainted with the other so there was no nod of greeting, no murmured “Hi.” Their eyes met, then looked away.

But this time they took something from the small amount of eye contact. A pin. A small needle that implanted itself in their brains, creating an itch somewhere in the back of their heads that had the other's name written on it. They couldn't read the name, all they knew was a presence, a feeling. No face burning behind their eyelids, no flashing memory of a pair of eyes or a smile, just a feeling. A feeling that they would dismiss immediately as it arose, and would refuse to think about until their next meeting.


	3. A Name

The third time was when it all started. A small decision that led to a big chain reaction with a bigger end result. This time, Dean passed Castiel in the cafeteria. Dean had his lunch on a tray, the same boring meal as yesterday, and the day before, and every single day before that one. As he walked past everyone else still waiting in line he heard a whimper that cut off abruptly, and his focus slowly turned to three boys in the line-up. More specifically, two fairly large boys towering over a shorter, lankier boy. Castiel. But Dean didn't know that yet.

These two boys had walked up to Castiel, and tucked into line behind him. One of them subtly pick-pocketing the change in Castiel's large trench coat’s oversized pocket as the other one sneered in Castiel's face, before the two of them roughly shoved him sideways out of line. Castiel simply tucked his head to his chest, eyes on his shoes as he slunk to the end of the long line, as he always did, pockets now empty, as they always were.

Dean was the kind of person who always told himself that if he were to ever be a witness to something akin to the situation before him, he would step in, give the bullies a piece of his mind, and make a difference in some poor kid's life. Alas, once Dean found himself exactly in the middle of that kind of situation, he did what he vowed he would never do. He did nothing. Dean averted his eyes, same as everyone else secretly observing the interaction did on a daily basis, and proceeded with his lunch to his normal spot at his normal table, smack in the middle of the cafeteria.

Then came the big decision that seemed so small, but started something so incredibly large. Dean turned to one of his friends sitting next to him, and asked, “Who's that kid?” pointing towards Castiel, who was now finally at the front of the line, and was digging out loose change from deep down in his jeans' pocket to pay for his lunch.

“That guy?” Nod. “Castiel Novak, I believe. Never really talked to him, though, so I don't know what he's like. Only know that Tyler and Alec seemed to take a particular liking to him.” Nod of thanks.

Dean acted like he couldn't care less about Castiel Novak, acted as though the information he was just provided with had gone in one ear and out the other, but as mentioned, he was acting. The name, Castiel Novak, slunk its way to the back of Dean's head, just like the boy himself had done at the lunch line, and wrapped itself around that same old pin that was still holding on somewhere back there. The feeling, the itch, finally had a name, but it changed nothing. The feeling was still dismissed, but at least now it had a label. And would soon have a face.


	4. Shoelaces

The fourth time Dean and Castiel passed, they finally met. Sort of. They didn't introduce themselves, didn't ask any questions, didn't even speak at all. They didn't shake hands, definitely did not hug, didn't have any kind of physical contact in the slightest. But Dean made the first baby step. Glued the first rung onto the ladder that neither were sure where it would lead to at the time.

Dean noticed Castiel much the same way as he had noticed him in the cafeteria. Dean was walking to his car after school, in a bit of a rush because he was late picking up his brother from his middle school, when he heard that same whimper that cut off short then was replaced by the sound of air being forcefully knocked out of lungs, and he slowed to a stop. The noise then turned into noises, short and heavy huffs of breath, short, pained whimpers, and worst of all the sounds of fists smacking into a body. Dean knew that sound too well, from a mile away, but he hadn't heard it in a long time, and he'd wished to never hear it again. But he endured it. He stood still, waiting just around the corner as the sounds continued for a few minutes, then stopped. Shoes scuffing gravel, Tyler and Alec leaving, and silence hung.

Dean finally stepped around the corner and took in the scene. Castiel, slumped against the wall, face a bit bloody but not too bad, and body looking beaten. Hair tousled, eyes drooping, arms limp, clothes rumpled, pants dirty at the knees, and shoelaces tied together between his feet. So that's how he fell, that's how they ambushed him.

Castiel's eyes slowly lifted and met Dean's gaze, but neither reacted. Neither moved a muscle, neither said anything, they simply stared. Castiel didn't have the energy or will to be curious about the boy standing before him, and Dean didn't know what he should do about the beaten boy on the ground. So Dean did what he knew he could. He stepped forward and reached down, tugging at one end of the laces and undoing the knot, freeing his shoes from each other.

Castiel stared, energy depleted and will beaten to a pulp, not able to muster up the fear he should have at this stranger approaching him. When Dean untied his shoelaces, straightened back up, and began to walk away, Castiel didn't say anything, feeling like he didn't need to. But a snapshot of Dean's face crept determinately to the small pin still hitching a ride at the back of his brain and stuck itself to it. The feeling, the itch, finally had a face, but it changed nothing. The feeling was still dismissed, but at least now it had a label. And would soon have a name.


End file.
